Page 185 of The Heart of Winter

Rubble.

My heart clenched.

"Winter?!"

A wave of pure shock ripped through me.

The ceiling had caved in.

Even though the dust still hung in thick, suffocating clouds, I forced myself forward, stumbling over piles of smaller and larger stones. The closer I got to our sleeping area, the higher the pile became. They weren’t massive boulders, but there were so many.

And then I reached the spot where the mattresses should have been.

Now it was… all rocks. I started throwing the stones aside, one by one, working in frantic, jerky movements, gripped by the horrifying certainty that all I would find beneath them was a lifeless body.

"Winter… Winter!!!"

My voice cracked with panic, and a sob rose in my throat.

Was my beloved Winter lying there, crushed beneath the rubble? My thoughts spun wildly, desperately trying to reject the images flashing through my mind. Blood. Broken bones. His beautiful body mangled beyond recognition.

I couldn’t think about that. I had to work. I had to focus.

Like a madman, I hurled stone after stone to the side, flinging them toward the empty streambed.

"Winter, Winter…" I begged.

My voice became a hoarse whimper. I coughed against the thick dust, but I didn’t stop.

From deep within the island, the volcano let out another ominous growl. The ground trembled beneath me. Somewhere behind me, more stones tumbled down.

We were running out of time. At any moment, another cave-in could bury me too. I had to hurry.

I summoned every ounce of strength in my body—everything that made me part alpha.

With a guttural growl ripping from my throat, ignoring the searing pain in my hands, I kept digging, kept tearing through the rocks.

And then—

A sound.

Faint. Muffled.

A whimper.

I don’t think I’d ever felt greater relief in my entire life.

"You’re alive?!" I yelled.

A second later, my hand brushed against something as I lifted another stone.

A piece of fabric.

I suddenly realized it was part of a mattress. But how was that possible? It was elevated, perched higher than the ground. Could Winter have managed to cover himself with the second mattress before the collapse? A new surge of hope burned in my chest. If he did, it could have protected him from being brutally hit by falling stones!

For the first time, I was grateful for how sturdy and dense those damn mattresses were.

"Winter, talk to me!"

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